A Guilty Conscience
by EudaimonArisornae
Summary: Takes place after the Bando Spiders game.  Spoiler warning.  Mamori tries to be alone to deal with the guilt of some of the cruel things she unintentionally told Sena in the past.  Hiruma walks in on her while she's crying.  Hiruma x Mamori.  Oneshot.


Title: A Guilty Conscience

Rating: T (for mild language)

Author: EudaimonArisornae

Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21.

**WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ANYTHING AFTER THE GAME WITH THE BANDO SPIDERS.** This story takes place immediately after the game with the Bando Spoilers.

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Mamori buried her face in her hands. "Why did you let me make such a fool out of myself so many times, Sena?" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the thunderstorm raging outside of the Devil Bats' Clubhouse.

A forgotten textbook was lying open on the table. Mamori lifted her head and gazed across the empty clubhouse. She was thankful that she could be alone. The entire team had left early when the sky began to turn dark with storm clouds, but she had remained behind because she needed to be alone.

Ever since the game with the Bando Spiders, Sena had avoided being alone with her.

Mamori was no longer upset that Sena withheld the fact that he was Eyeshield 21 from her. In fact, during the game with the Bando Spiders, she surprisingly felt a mix of joy and pride while watching Sena play. He had grown up, and she couldn't believe that she had never noticed it.

Yet she still desperately needed to speak to Sena alone, if only to alleviate her own guilty conscience.

A tiny sob escaped her throat. "So many horrible things," she murmured. "I said so many stupid things to you. I _insulted_ you…"

Mamori sat back in her chair and carefully wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. She was acting foolishly, and she had to make herself calm down. Tilting her head toward the ceiling, she closed her eyes and listened to the deafening pounding of the raindrops plummeting onto the rooftop.

Just as Mamori began to regain her composure, the door of the clubhouse flew open with a harsh clatter.

"Tsk, what the hell are you doing here, damn manager?" Hiruma asked, not bothering to look up at her. He noisily slamming the door closed behind him and carelessly tossed a large red umbrella into the corner.

"Hiruma-kun," she stammered, instinctively brushing her hair forward try to hide her face, in case it was obvious that she had been crying.

The gesture was not lost on Hiruma. He studied her carefully, taking note that her blue eyes were slightly red and puffy.

"Why did you come back over here? I thought you went home already," she said.

"I never went home, and I already planned on coming back here," he replied simply. Hiruma sat across the table from Mamori and set up his laptop.

"Where were you?" she asked.

"None of your business, damn manager."

"Don't call me that," she said half-heartedly.

Hiruma smirked slightly. "A better question would be to ask why you're still here."

She hesitated a moment. "I needed a quiet place to study."

"I see you've gotten a lot of studying done, too," he quipped, nodding in the direction of her textbook. It was still open to the first page of a new chapter.

Mamori blushed and quickly slammed the book shut.

Hiruma turned his attention toward his laptop. A bit stunned, Mamori found herself staring at him.

"Never seen you like this," he mused, not bothering to look up at her.

Mamori blushed a second time, her gaze fixated on his expression. A crash of thunder resounded overhead, causing her to jump.

"Hehehehe," Hiruma cackled. "Afraid of a little thunder?" He stared at her with a menacing grin.

"I wasn't expecting it," she defended. Although she and Hiruma had spent hours alone together in the clubhouse preparing for games, she felt nervous in his presence tonight. The reason she had stayed at the clubhouse was to be alone, and suddenly, one of the most unsympathetic people that she knew was intruding on her solitude.

Confident that all visible signs of crying had disappeared, she brushed her hair back from her eyes. "Hiruma-kun?" she asked quietly.

"Hm?" he mumbled, fixated on the computer screen.

"Why did Sena keep it a secret for so long?"

"Because I told him to," he replied bluntly, knowing that she was referring to him being Eyeshield 21.

Mamori nodded, not surprised by the response. "I understand that," she said quietly. "You didn't want people to know his identity right away because of the other clubs."

Hiruma nodded. "Did you see what happened at school today?"

She smiled faintly. "The other clubs bombarded him with invitations to join other clubs."

A flicker of a smile crossed Hiruma's lips, then disappeared.

"But that isn't the only reason," she went on. "After all, other people on the team obviously knew it."

Hiruma's body tensed slightly, and Mamori felt her throat tighten.

"I'm right, aren't I? That wasn't the only reason?" she stared at him, trying to fight the tears welling in her eyes.

He stopped clicking on the keyboard and met her stare. "Yeah, there was another reason."

She pressed her hands to her mouth. "I knew it," she choked. "I did hurt him with all those awful things I said."

Hiruma blinked. "What?" he asked with confusion.

"The horrible things I said to him, like telling him that even though he was so small, he could be great just like Eyeshield 21." She bit her lip, trying to fight back the tears. "I even told Eyeshield 21 that he should try to hang out with Sena more to inspire him. How did I not notice he was Sena?"

Hiruma closed his laptop with a faint click, but the gesture was lost on the crying girl. He idly blew a bubble while she continued to ramble.

"I kept telling Sena how he could never play football because he was too frail. I said he was too scared to do some of the things Eyeshield 21 did. It was worse than failing to notice that he was growing up. I said such mean things to him, treated him like somebody always had to look after him."

"Tsk," Hiruma said, "I doubt that damn shorty cared."

Mamori wiped her eyes with the side of her hand. "Of course he cared. Why else do you think he kept it from me when other people on the team knew?"

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed quietly for a moment. "He must not even see me as a trusted friend anymore. I can't blame him for that," she admitted. "I wouldn't respect anyone who treated me so childishly, either. It's not as if--"

"Damn manager," Hiruma interrupted.

He winced as she began to sob louder. "Don't call me that," she said shrilly.

"Look," he continued after a moment, "he didn't tell you because I told him not to. And I continued repeating those instructions after the rest of the team found out."

Mamori looked up at him somberly. "But why? Why did you do that?"

"Didn't trust you with the information," he said simply.

Her crying ceased as she stared at him incredulously. After a pregnant pause, she managed to sputter, "Why wouldn't you trust me?"

Hiruma shrugged and crossed his arms in front of him. "I had my reasons. It's meaningless to rehash it; you know now."

She slammed her hand on the table. Now, her face was flushed from anger instead of tears. "Hiruma, how could you not trust me to keep it a secret after everything I've done for the team?"

"I didn't want you to get in the way," he retorted. "It doesn't matter anymore, anyway."

"Of course it matters!" she said furiously. "You're one of the most ill-reputed people in this school. You blackmail everybody. You use people. You use whatever means necessary to get what you want. You even have blackmail on me!"

She paused for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice had softened. "Despite all that, I still _trust_ you, Hiruma Yoichi. You're the last person that anyone should trust, and yet I do. So yes, I think it's very significant that I just found out that you don't trust me. How would you expect me to react to that?"

Hiruma raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever seen you act this way," he commented.

"Because I seldom do," she responded. "It's been a long time when I've felt so guilty and so furious simultaneously, though, and I think I have a right to know why you don't trust me."

"Tsk, fine," he said. Mamori gazed at him anxiously.

He stared at her for a moment, admiring the faint tinge of pink in her flushed cheeks. In all of their previous arguments, he had never seen her so angry before.

"Of course I trusted you to keep a damn secret. I didn't trust you to influence that damn shorty to quit the team."

Her jaw dropped slightly. "Me… encourage him to quit? Why would I do that?"

Hiruma scoffed. "Think about it. During those first few games, if you knew that he was the one who was taking all those falls during a game, you would've told him he had to quit."

"But if I had known—"

"You would have. You're that kind of person."

Mamori slumped in her seat and looked at the surface of the table sullenly.

"Satisfied, damn manager? You have my trust and the damn shorty still knows you're a friend. And he'll talk to you tomorrow if it's the last thing he does," Hiruma declared. "So stop acting so damn depressed. It's not like you and it annoys me."

She smiled faintly, but Hiruma could tell the smile was forced.

"I'm sorry for the outburst, Hiruma-kun," she whispered. After a moment, she stood up, grabbed her textbook, and slid it into her shoulder-bag.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving," she responded dejectedly.

"Tsk, it's still pouring outside."

She walked over to the door and put her hand on the knob. "I think its best I go now," she said, and opened the door.

"Don't be stupid. Just wait a while, damn manager. I've got some work I need you to do."

"Good night, Hiruma-kun," she called out, not bothering to correct him for not using her real name. She quickly closed the door behind her.

Mamori didn't walk home, however. She walked to the sports field instead and took a seat at one of the benches, staring at the drenched field. Lightning flashed across the sky, following by a low rumble of thunder.

The sound of the rain was so loud that she failed to hear the footsteps behind her. She jumped as a slender, warm hand gripped her shoulder.

"Please, Hiruma-kun, leave me alone," she said quietly, staring at her feet. Strands of wet hair fell into her face in clumps.

Hiruma smirked and sat down next to her, his arm lightly brushing her own. Mamori looked over at him and almost smiled at his rain-logged hair. The normal spiky, blonde tendrils were drooping and covering his face.

For several minutes, the pair sat in silence as the rain continued to pour. Mamori's uniform was soaked through, but she didn't notice until she started to shiver from the cold. Hiruma looked at her and frowned.

"Tsk, idiot," he murmured. "I told you not to come out here now."

She hugged her hands around her body for warmth, but made no attempt to move. "I'll just stay a bit longer, then I'll go home. You should head back inside, though."

"What, while you sit out here and freeze to death?"

"That's absurd," she retorted. "I'll only be here a short while longer."

To her surprise, Hiruma put his arm around her shoulders. "If you're going to stay out here, then I'm not leaving." He pulled her closer, and she quickly began to feel warmer.

"Hiruma-kun," she whispered softly, unsure of how to react. The contact was comforting, yet she hesitated to relax.

Concerns of a different nature began to fill her with doubt. Instead of feeling raked with guilt over the situation with Sena, she began to think of how she had slowly begun to let down her walls in front of Hiruma ever since she began managing the Devil Bats.

Now, she felt like she had let an essential barrier crumble in front of him; she had tearfully confessed her remorse and regrets to the devilish man. She had shown him herself in her weakest state.

Suddenly, Mamori realized that it was foolish to be embarrassed about being in such close proximity to him when just a short while ago she was sobbing in front of him. It was also foolish for her to deny that the contact was undesired.

Mamori let her body relax. She snugly pressed herself against Hiruma's side and rested her head on his shoulder.

She felt his chin lightly brush the back of her head, and she couldn't help but smile slightly. His grip around her tightened, and she put her arm across his chest.

Another minute elapsed, and Hiruma spoke again. "Do you want to go inside now?"

Mamori remained silent. She was afraid that if they returned to the clubhouse, she may never be able to get this close to him again.

He pulled away slightly, and she reflexively sat up and crossed her arms in front of her, assuming that he no longer wanted her near.

"Well?" he asked again.

She sighed heavily. "Okay," she said quietly.

Hiruma looked up as large lightning bolt momentarily lit up the sky. "I don't like repeating what I've already said, but you haven't done anything to feel this guilty over."

"I don't know if you're right, Hiruma-kun, but—"

"Of course I'm right."

She smiled weakly and turned to look at him. "Well, you usually are. I can't just make the feelings go away, though."

He returned her gaze. "You should."

"But I can't," she protested, wiping wet tendrils of hair out of her face.

"Mamori," he said quietly, setting his hand on her shoulder.

She gaped at him, her lips parted slightly in surprised. "Hiruma-kun," she gasped, "You called me by my—"

Before she could complete her sentence, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was warm and welcoming, and she felt herself melt against him as he tightly pressed her body against his. The cold rain drizzling down her hair and face seemed miles away as she lost herself in the kiss, amazed that Hiruma could be so tender.

When they finally pulled away, Hiruma smiled at her and brushed her hair out of her face. "Come on, let's go inside and get warm," he said gently. She nodded, and he put his arm around her as they strolled back to the clubhouse.


End file.
